All I Ask Is That You Polish Me
I am a kettle made of stainless steel
I am a saint, for tea is brewed to heal
And , unlike kettles on an old coal fire,
I am not dirty nor do I perspire.
My mirrored sides reflect you as you cook.
Look at me and read me like a book
I’m full of love and hotter than a man
Oh, dear lady, love me while you can.
Superior mother, yet inhuman I;
Even electric kettles sometimes lie.
I shall never punish you, my dear
For perfect love like mine shall wield no fear.
All I ask is that you polish me.
For, in between your hands, I yearn to be.
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